Category Archives: Trifextra Challenge

And if you can, please click the pic under Give Merbear A Hand on the left and, well…give Merbear a hand.

After umpteen challenges and countless entries, I’ve gotten to read some incredible stuff. Despite only entering irregularly, it’s been an honor to be a member of the Trifecta Writing Challenge community.

After all the effort they’ve put in, and a great string of challenges either weekly or twice a week, the judges have decided to pack it in and leave before they lost their enthusiasm for it.
I wish them well, and to the rest of their writers, I look forward to seeing what you do next!

Here’s their Final Challenge:we’re lovingly, and eagerly, placing the choice in your hands. There’s no topic, no word, just a free write. Go anywhere your mind wants to travel. Take us there too. Just make it count, leave your blood all over this page. Thirty-three words exactly.
Of course. We couldn’t end it any other way.

And here’s my last entry. Unless they start up again! (Thanks to polysyllabic profundities for getting me off my ass to contribute.)

Last Time Around
Thirty three…
How do you sum up something so rewarding so quickly?
Twenty one…
How do you thank and appreciate so concisely?
Eleven…
You write, and hope they understand how you feel.

Another year, and new challenges from those wacky cats at Trifecta. And DJ Matticus, who reminded me of the challenge with his great response.
This week, they want 33 words to follow The first time I saw…
(Oh, and they should all be one syllable each.)

But I have 66! The same number of days til spring!
The first set is what came to mind first (since I’m a little bent).
The second set came to me because what’s a trifecta challenge if I don’t at least try to tweak the judges (since I’m probably more than a little bent)?

Vengeance is MINE!!!

The first time I saw
– from the first scream – from the time when the first shock made me wake, I knew my whole life would be in need to give a hard sharp slap back to that doc.

(and again…)
their tasks, mocks from a harsh team who hid in the depths of the ‘net, led me to spend my free time in search of them.
33 care worn words at a time.

Well, those wacky Trifectans have gotten even wackier!
This week, instead of giving us the third definition of a word, they’ve given us a buffet! Buffet, sadly, does not fall within the alphabetical range of Bab to Bac. But what does?
Why, the 99th page of the Oxford English dictionary!
And to be even wackier, this time they want exactly 99 words!
So even though I’m rarely mentioned for the challenge, I do want to assert myself as wackiest.
so here you go, and enjoy! (And while i’ve used several words in the piece, I did (in an even wackierest twist) actually try and use one correcly!)

Titleless(What? I used all 99 words in the story.)
“I got nothin’”
“What does that mean? You’ve got a whole dictionary page to work with. A whole page!”
“Did you even look at it?” came the rejoinder. “How the hell do I make ‘Babylon’ mean London? And ‘back’ is so amorphous it don’t mean fiddlesticks!”
The first poured himself a Bacardi. The second pulled out a steel shaft, toying with the bacilliform. “Who’s this?” he asked of the armored man under the ‘Merriam-Webster-Trifecta’ banner.
“He’s my bachelor”.
“Woah! I didn’t know you even went that way.”
The first man rolled his eyes. “Did you even read the dictionary?

*Note on today’s post: There’s a much longer version of this which has all the words on the Oxford page, but it was way over 99 so I couldn’t use it. You’re welcome.

And I quote: “You’ve found some old books. On page 3 of one of the books, this illustration appears:
Give us the 33 words that follow this illustration. What happens next?”
Artist credit: Dan Dufordhttp://www.poisonedplayground.com

How could I resist?
Hoe you enjoy it.

We all knew that face, that mood, that pathos.
The blood curdling shrieks were familiar. The confusion, terror and anger would hover. He wouldn’t be relaxed again until he found his contact lens.

Well, those wacky Trifectans have challenged us again. This weekend, they want 33 words written in the first person.
You see where I’m going with this, right?
hehehe

Because if it wasn’t for S&W, I’d have no idea what first person singular was.Hot, baby!

I stood for the ceremony. My position required my presence there. The lucky winner gave me his name for the form. I filled it out and left.
I only wrote-in the first person.

(If it’s of any use to you, I was thinking this was a supermarket opening, though I have no idea why someone would need to be signed in for that…)
Follow the Trifecta link and check out the great entries this week.

*Disclaimer – despite my recent finger wound, I was not on painkillers when I wrote this.
But you may want to be when you read it.

The EMTs stood over the frothing man.
He sat in front of a laptop, 72 MS Word documents open.
His eyes were wide.
He was gibbering.
He wasn’t wearing pants.
Yogurt from a tipped cup slowly oozed across the table next to him.
The EMTs looked at each other.
“Have you ever seen anything like this, Hank?” asked the first.
The frothing man shot up, sitting rigidly straight.
“IT’S THE WORST THING EVER, HANK!!!!” he shrieked before slumping back down.
Hank frowned, and picked up the half empty yogurt cup. He took a deep smell. His brow furrowed.
He gingerly dipped the smallest part of his pinky fingernail into the swirly goop, just deeply enough to catch a small bit on the tip. He lifted it up to his lips to taste the digit, his eyes widening as the flavor swirled over his tongue.
“Someone has added something as a doctor of the yogurt, Fred” he declared. “It’s…hyperbole!”
Fred gasped (only partly at the akwardness of the sentence construction).
“But that also means it’s about a week and a half old!” said Fred, remembering the Trifecta challenges schedule.
“Yes” said Frank, authoritatively. “We can’t help him. This man a needs a doctor!”
The man sat straight up again, pulling something shiny from below. He frantically worked it into the spilled yogurt, spreading it over the surface of the table…the laptop…his bellybutton.
Etched in the stainless steel, the words “The Doctor” gleamed in the light.
Hank shook his head. “Or a psychiatrist…”
Fred stepped back. “I do not want to know where he pulled that from.
But I bet it was bigger on the inside…”

(This week’s contest is community judged, so go check out their site, read some of the other great entries and vote for them.)
(Seriously.)
(It would be a travesty if I won.)
(hehehe)